


Hearts Going On

by vespertineflora



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Steve Rogers, Couch Sex, Drawing, Emotions, Established Relationship, M/M, Nude Modeling, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-26 20:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2664794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vespertineflora/pseuds/vespertineflora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky remembers that Steve used to draw and encourages him to do so again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearts Going On

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to god when I starting writing it, this wasn't going to be porn. And then it was. Whoops?

“You used to draw,” Bucky said very suddenly to him one day as his arms were wrapped around him from behind, speaking it like the thought only just occurred to him. With the way memories had been coming back to Bucky, Steve figured that that was probably exactly what had happened.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a nod, a reminiscent smile. It had probably been one of his greatest passions back then, pencil and charcoal mostly, because when he tried to use oil paints, the colors didn’t turn out right, to him or to anyone else, so he hadn’t bothered, deciding to stick to the black and white mediums. Colorblindness couldn’t mess up a charcoal sketch.

“I remember you were really good at it,” Bucky said with a little smile. He swayed Steve gently in his arms as he watched Steve stirring the pot of soup slowly. 

“You were a bit of an artist yourself, you know,” Steve replied back. Bucky had been going to classes with him after all.

Bucky shook his head a little, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “I wasn’t nearly as good as you. The biggest reason I even got into it was because you liked it so much. I wanted to have something I could do with you.”

Steve’s smile softened and he leaned back into Bucky. The idea that Bucky would have picked up art just to spend more time with him warmed his heart. His arm settled over the arm Bucky had wrapped around his waist and held him close and shivered just a little as Bucky pressed a few soft kisses to his neck.

“I haven’t seen you draw recently, not since I’ve been back,” Bucky commented lightly.

Steve tensed up just a little bit then, a slight frown twisting the corner of his mouth downward. “That’s... because I haven’t.”

“Really?” Bucky asked, sounding a little disappointed, “Why not?”

Steve gave as much of a shrug as he could. “I tried at first. After they pulled me out of the ice, I... I bought a sketchbook, pencils, even decided to get some paints. But every time I sat down to draw, it didn’t work out. Either I couldn’t think of anything, or... the things I wanted to draw hurt too much and I couldn’t make myself do it. So after a while I just stopped trying.”

He hadn’t thought much about it at the time, but he’d learned later on that one of the effects of depression was losing interest in activities that were once engaging. Honestly, after his return, for a long time, Steve hadn’t had much of an interest in anything. He’d started reading and watching things to try to catch up, but none of it had been nearly as exciting as it should have been. He’d been too wrapped up in what (and in who) he’d lost to really move on, or to even care about moving on. He’d spent too many days wishing the crash had killed him, like it was supposed to, because he’d known from the instant that Bucky died that he’d never be able to go back to Brooklyn without him, he’d never be able to go back to the way things had been before. Waking up from the ice had only made the pathway to recovery even more complicated for him, having lost everything that had once been known to him.

“Hmm,” Bucky made a noise of acknowledgement, nuzzling gently into Steve’s neck. He was quiet for a bit, just pressed close to Steve as they swayed together. After a bit, Bucky asked, “What did you want to draw that you couldn’t?”

Steve felt his cheeks heat up. Seventy years ago, he would have lied about it. He’d kept the drawings he’d made separate and kept those sketchbooks as hidden as possible so that Bucky would never find them. Even a couple months ago, he might have hidden the truth, but now... well, it’d be silly not to just tell him. “You,” he said quietly. “You were my favorite subject.”

He felt Bucky hold him a little bit closer than before, his voice low and soft against his ear. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Steve replied with a soft sigh, his body slowly relaxing as Bucky pressed warm kisses up and down his neck.

“So you’ve drawn me before?” Bucky asked softly then kissed his ear lobe.

“Yeah,” Steve admitted. “I had... entire sketchbooks full of you back in Brooklyn.”

Bucky laughed softly, “Did you really? I’d’ve liked to see that.”

Steve gave a little shrug. “I have no clue what would have happened to them. Haven’t seen them since before the war. And there’s no way I would have shown you that back then.”

“No?” Bucky said with a light grin. “If I’d known back then you felt like that, I’d have jumped you a whole lot sooner.”

“I’m sure,” Steve said, laughing. He twisted enough in Bucky’s arms to share a proper kiss with him, pressing lips together softly, before Steve turned back to again stir the pot on the stove.

Bucky gave him a sweet little squeeze, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder again. “It wouldn’t hurt to draw me now, would it?”

Steve considered for a moment. He hadn’t even thought about drawing with everything that had been going on. He’d been too busy catching up, too busy finding Bucky, too busy throwing himself into work, and now was too busy catching up with Bucky. He’d honestly forgotten about the sketchbook and art supplies buried at the bottom of his closet, but... 

Thinking about it now made him want to try again. He didn’t feel the intimidating blank roadblock that he’d felt before, and the more he thought about it, the more eager he was to draw again.

“No, I think I’d like that,” Steve replied with a soft smile, squeezing lightly on Bucky’s hand.

After dinner, Steve dug into his closet until he’d found the abandoned sketchbook. There was only anything on two pages; one had the outline of an eye, and nothing more, while the other had three lines on it that weren’t enough to give away what Steve had been attempting. The rest of the pages were completely blank, and years ago, Steve had almost felt like they were mocking him.

But he felt more at ease now, and he walked back into the living room to join Bucky, who came up to him and wrapped his arms around him, kissing him sweetly.

When he pulled back, there was a dastardly grin on Bucky’s lips. “Steve,” he said, his voice dropping into a faux-seductive tone, “I want you to draw me like one of your French girls.”

Steve immediately cracked up, collapsing into Bucky--who started laughing as well. They’d just seen the movie Titanic two nights ago, on Clint’s recommendation, and the scene was still quite fresh in their minds. Steve wondered vaguely if maybe that was what had sparked Bucky's memory.

When Steve could speak again, he said with a grin, “Seriously, do you want me to? Because I will.”

Bucky laughed. “Would you really?” He pecked Steve’s mouth. “Okay, now I’m really interested. Let’s do it.”

“Sure,” Steve said with a laugh, before pausing, telling Bucky, “one sec,” and running back to his bedroom. He returned a moment later with something in hand, and once in front of Bucky, he dramatically let his dog tags dangle from his hand, grinning as he asked, “Should I draw you wearing this? And only this?”

Bucky burst into laughter again. “Yes, absolutely,” he replied enthusiastically, taking the tags from Steve’s hand and slipping them over his head, before leaning in to kiss Steve a bit more firmly. Steve chuckled against Bucky’s mouth and held him for a moment as they kissed.

After a minute, Bucky pulled back and started to undress. “Hey, do you want to put on that album Bruce sent us last week?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, went to the stereo to put the CD in, since having something in the background would be nice, and a moment later, the mellow music began to drift from the speakers.

Bucky chucked his shirt onto the far end of the couch as Steve shifted the armchair into a better position in front of the couch and took seat before looking up at Bucky--and pausing to watch him. 

They’d been naked together plenty at this point, of course, but... it normally wasn’t in the most well lit of rooms, and there was normally so much more to focus on than looking, so while this wasn’t his first time seeing Bucky nude, it was his first chance to really sit back and appreciate just how gorgeous Bucky was. Steve’s mouth wasn’t fully closed as he watched the muscles beneath the flesh flexing as Bucky disrobed slowly. His eyes raked over Bucky’s smooth, evenly toned skin, catching on a bit of scar tissue here and there, on the rough skin where Bucky’s arm met his shoulder, before following his movements and watching him slide his red boxer briefs down over the firm curve of his ass. He tossed them over to lay atop the rest of his discarded clothing.

When he turned back around to face Steve, he was wearing nothing but the dog tags and the cockiest fucking grin imaginable. He eyed Steve up for a second before quipping, “You sure you’re gonna be able to focus under these conditions?”

Steve shut his mouth immediately, feeling a tiny bit of heat on his cheeks. “Hush,” he said, turning his eyes away to flip open his sketchbook to a new page. “If you had the view I did, you’d be staring too.”

Bucky chuckled softly as he sat down and began to stretch out on the couch similar to the way Rose had in the movie. “Doesn’t bode well for the drawing, though,” he replied. “What if I offer a reward for when you finish?”

“If the reward is sex, you’ll give it to me anyway,” Steve said with a grin. “Can you move the tags more to the middle of your chest?”

Bucky let out a laugh and reached up to move the tags over a bit. “Okay, true. But that doesn’t make it any less appealing as a reward, does it?”

“Sex with you is never unappealing, Buck,” Steve replied as his pencil hovered over the paper, analyzing his subject and deciding where to start. It had been a really long time.

“Good,” Bucky replied, laughing again, settling his arms behind his head and getting comfortable. “Then I won’t change the reward.”

“Deal,” Steve said, then laughed softly, under his breath; he put the pencil to the paper and started.

As he worked, all his memories and everything he’d learned started to rush back to him. He knew instantly that this wasn’t going to be the best thing he’d ever drawn--he was too far out of practice--but he didn’t care. It felt... good to be drawing again. It felt right. It was like some piece inside of him was shifting back into place, some internal switch was flipping on and illuminating a place inside him that had been dark for so long he’d forgotten it was there. 

Most days Steve was so focused on Bucky’s recovery that he forgot that he was still in a recovery of his own. It was so much easier for him to focus on Bucky, and it was easier to pretend that there was nothing wrong in his own head, even though he still had the anxiety and the nightmares and the occasional insomnia to prove otherwise. It was just that he’d grown up pretending nothing was wrong with him, and that was back when there was so much more wrong with him, so it was a habit that was hard to break, to sit back and remember that he had to think about himself sometimes.

Moments like this reminded him though. He was aware of just how much work he still had to do, but more so just how far he’d come from the man who’d been defrosted just a few years ago.

Sketching Bucky’s outline onto the paper made him feel... alive again. Being with Bucky did that too, but this was different. Bucky was a comfort, while this felt like some sort of personal victory for him. He was drawing again. He could draw again, and jumping that mental hurdle that had felt impossible not so long ago gave him a sincere sense of accomplishment.

Bucky had a sweet, relaxed smile on his face, watching Steve intently as he worked. They settled into a comfortable silence minus the gentle music in the air, Bucky humming softly to the tune of the songs he remembered.

It was about fifteen minutes later that Steve’s pencil finally pulled back from the paper for longer than a few seconds and Bucky spoke up, “How’s it coming?”

“Good,” Steve replied with a smile, proud of the image on the paper even if it wasn’t perfect. “Not quite done, but you can move now.” He knew how stiff someone could get posing for anything and he had what he needed.

“Good,” Bucky echoed back and took the cue, stretching out his arms and legs as Steve’s gaze turned back to the drawing to fill in more details, shaded a few areas a little bit more.

He didn’t look up again until he heard Bucky issue a little groan that caught his attention--and when he did, he immediately paused, breathless and gaping more than a bit as a pulse of arousal rushed straight down to his cock.

Bucky was stroking himself. His hand was moving artfully up and down his now-hard cock, and for a moment, the sight was literally all Steve could think about. He thought to himself that maybe this is what he should have drawn, because holy shit if Bucky was gorgeous before, he was a god now, pure and simple. Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away as he watched Bucky touching himself.

Bucky noticed him after a few seconds, grinning a little, but not looking Steve’s way as he asked teasingly, “Don’t you have a drawing to finish?”

“Sort of... hard to concentrate,” Steve replied, swallowing a little. He could feel his own cock acting up, and he wanted desperately to cross the space between him and Bucky, wanted to touch him.

Bucky had a smirk on his lips as he said, “Well, I wanted to be ready for you as soon as you finished.”

“Jerk,” Steve said without much conviction, and Bucky laughed, but his hand didn’t stop stroking himself and a drop of precum beaded at the tip of his cock, holding in place for a few seconds before spilling down over Bucky’s fingers.

Steve sucked in a sharp breath, his erection giving a dull throb, and he immediately turned back to his drawing, adding in the last few strokes of his pencil here and there, filling in details, shadows, and doing so as quickly as he could because he could hear Bucky breathing a bit heavier, could hear the semi-wet sound of his hand moving rhythmically over his cock.

“Okay, finished,” Steve declared, happy with the finished product--or at least happy enough to be done with it now, because he had far more urgent things to worry about. 

“Let me see,” Bucky said.

Steve was grateful just to cross the room and be closer to Bucky. He sat down next to him and held up the sketch for Bucky, and Bucky smiled authentically as he looked over the image. “You’re as good as I remember,” he said, admiring the image with true appreciation on his face. “Did it feel good to draw again?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, it did.”

“Good,” Bucky replied, then reached up towards the back of Steve’s neck to pull him down a few feet into a kiss. It may have been overeager, but Steve moaned against Bucky’s lips. Bucky laughed softly, then broke the kiss to say, “Okay, reward time.”

Steve grinned and Bucky kissed him again, their lips parting, their tongues mingling, before Bucky released him, letting Steve shed clothing. Bucky’s hand dipped between the couch cushions to fish out the bottle of lube they’d left there the other night (because there were probably way too many nights when they couldn’t be bothered to make it to the bedroom). 

As Steve tossed his clothing over Bucky’s, Bucky shifted on the couch, sitting up a little bit more as he propped himself against the arm of the couch.

When Steve went to straddle him, Bucky said with a grin, “Face the other way,” and Steve didn’t bother questioning it, climbing over Bucky, straddling his waist so that his hand could take Bucky’s place stroking his dick.

“Lean forward a little,” Bucky said. As soon as Steve did, he felt Bucky’s slick fingers pressed up against his entrance. Steve moaned and Bucky didn’t hesitate to press the two fingers inside. He wasted no time in preparing Steve, the fingers moving easily in and out, stretching Steve quickly and efficiently as Steve moaned his gratitude and tried to keep himself from rocking back onto Bucky’s fingers.

Bucky handed the bottle to Steve, and Steve in turn lubed Bucky’s cock; Bucky briefly added a third finger before removing them completely, and then Bucky was helping Steve lift his hips, was lining his cock up against Steve’s entrance before Steve slowly sunk down.

There was a certain amount of relief in having Bucky inside of him at last, stretching him so perfectly. Steve couldn’t help but think it felt right to be so full of Bucky, and it quelled some of his urgency. He took a few breaths, purposefully squeezing down on Bucky and making him groan. Steve leaned forward, braced his hands on Bucky’s thighs and began to move.

He moved slowly enough at first, rolling his hips on Bucky, before using the muscles in his thighs to lift himself, to draw out the feeling of Bucky moving inside of him. 

Then Bucky’s hands moved from his hips down to his ass, and Steve could feel Bucky using his thumbs to spread his cheeks wide apart, and Steve felt heat rushing into his cheeks, his chest, because he knew without looking that Bucky was watching him intently, he knew that his eyes were devouring the way his cock looked moving in and out of Steve, the way Steve’s hole was squeezing eagerly around Bucky’s cock and trying to pull him in as deep as possible, and Steve knew that Bucky knew exactly how desperately he wanted Bucky’s cock fucking into him just like this.

Steve moaned, though it was honestly more like a whine, as Bucky’s thumbs kept him open wide, and Steve’s cock throbbed and leaked, a liberal amount of precum slipping down the shaft, so wet at the idea of Bucky watching him with such scrutiny.

Finally, Bucky’s hands move back to his hips, and he heard Bucky speaking gruffly and breathlessly from behind him, “Lean back,” he gasped, “Against me.”

The instruction was a new one to Steve, but he wasn’t in the mood to question it. Steve stopped his thrusts, letting Bucky’s cock settle comfortably inside of him as he slowly started to shift backwards. He used his arm resting on the back of the couch to hold himself up as he had to maneuver his legs forward, and Bucky encouraged in a low voice that sent shivers down Steve’s spine, “Yeah, like that, all the way back.”

Steve realized that he was losing his leverage as he settled his back to Bucky’s chest, no longer in a position to control how Bucky was moving in him. Then he saw Bucky’s legs moving, bracing between the couch cushions, as Bucky’s hands slid over his ass, along the backs of his thighs until he was pulling Steve’s legs back towards his shoulders as his hands settled under Steve’s knees, pulling him into a tight little package.

Steve knew he was totally at Bucky’s mercy then, and the idea left him aching with arousal, dripping messily onto his own stomach.

Then Bucky moved, his hips rolling upwards and Steve’s hand slapped over his own mouth, groaning desperately loudly--Bucky’s angle meant he was pressing hard against Steve’s prostate, his thick cock rubbing heartily against the sensitive spot inside him. Bucky moved again and Steve felt the muscles in his thighs trembling beneath Bucky’s hands, his own precum pooling on his stomach, glistening obscenely in the lighting in the room.

Bucky moved torturously slow, letting the whole curve of his cock massage Steve on the inside as he moved in and out until Steve could barely fucking remember where he was, could barely muster a thought about anything other than Bucky’s cock filling him up and making him burn with pleasure.

Steve had lost control of the sounds escaping him as Bucky fucked him so slowly, whimpering against his hand, whining, his head falling back against the arm of the couch next to Bucky’s where he could hear Bucky panting heavily against his ear and god he was never going to come like this, it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough, Bucky felt so goddamn good inside him, but the delicious torture wasn’t going to ever end at this rate.

And just when Steve wasn’t sure how much more he could take as Bucky drew out of him again, just when Steve almost thought to beg even though Steve had never begged before, suddenly, Bucky’s hips kicked into gear. He started moving quickly, thrusting up into Steve. Steve was rocking on top of him, Bucky’s hips thrusting his cock up into him, rubbing deliciously inside of him, stretching him tight and filling him. The hand Steve wasn’t using to cover his mouth snapped to Bucky’s forearm and he gripped down hard on the metal as he moaned into the palm of his hand.

Bucky pulled Steve’s knees back tight and Steve couldn’t do anything but moan, almost pleading as Bucky fucked him, thrusting up into him like a fucking jackhammer, faster and harder until Steve was reeling, until he couldn’t fucking see straight and his vocabulary devolved into four letter words and unintelligible requests for more, his cock throbbing, his whole person on fire with every hard thrust into his prostate. It only added to the experience that he could feel the strength in Bucky’s hands gripping him, could feel the muscles in his abdomen rippling with each movement, could hear Bucky grunting hard next to his ear with the effort of his thrusts, all while he relied completely on Bucky to give him what he needed, and god, god Bucky did, Bucky gave him everything he could ask for and more.

Steve stopped breathing as he finally felt the orgasm coming on, felt it tightening at the base of his spine, freezing him as each thrust pushed him closer and closer. He gripped down hard on Bucky’s arm, his toes curling, and his hand sealing over his mouth until he let out a sound just below a scream as his body spasmed and he came, shooting a mess all across his chest, hitting himself in the chin as he clenched down tight and rhythmically around Bucky’s cock inside of him; barely two thrusts later, Bucky’s hands tightened on the backs of his thighs, and Bucky groaned in relief as he released inside of him.

They both collapsed then, completely worn out. Bucky’s hands released Steve’s legs and they fell forward (the movement making Bucky’s cock shift inside of him and making him shudder) between Bucky’s legs, and together the two of them panted breathlessly for several long minutes as Steve waited for the room to stop spinning.

Once they both felt some ability to move coming back to their limbs, Bucky’s arms moved up to wrap around Steve’s stomach to hold him... but once he had, he laughed, his arms encountering the sticky mess of precum coating Steve’s stomach. “Jesus,” he said with an exhausted grin, “you made a mess.”

Steve cracked a little smile and replied simply, “Your fault.”

Bucky snickered. “Okay, true,” he agreed, kissing Steve’s ear. “But we’re definitely gonna have to shower next.”

“Mmm, in a bit,” Steve replied lazily, not really willing to move quite yet and disturb his post-coital comfort. Bucky was going soft inside of him, and he really liked the feeling of fullness to linger after he came. Bucky was warm against his back and his arms held him close as he felt his soft exhales against his cheek; he felt safe and loved and... really good. He’d made dinner for them, he’d drawn again, and the orgasm was the cherry on top of the sundae. Not much more to do to make this a better evening for him.

Besides, if they waited just a few more minutes, in the shower they could be ready for round two.

Bucky nibbled playfully at his ear and teased, “I get the feeling you’re gonna want me to fuck you again in the shower.”

Steve laughed, though he was still a bit breathless. “You know me so well.”

Bucky returned the soft laughter, nuzzling his face against Steve’s hair. They stayed cradled together like that for several long minutes as Bucky pressed kisses to Steve’s skin and held close onto him. Eventually, Steve did get up, separating enough to get off the couch and start to pull Bucky with him, and as they climbed into the shower and beneath the stream of hot water, kissing and groping, Bucky promised with a grin that next time, he’d be the one to draw Steve.

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine the music Bruce gave them was Fleet Foxes.


End file.
